


hot chocolate

by viscrael



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, literally just fluff thats it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:19:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscrael/pseuds/viscrael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kei doesn’t think the novelty of their relationship will ever wear off. His heart still skips a beat when Yamaguchi looks at him for too long; how could he ever get tired of this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	hot chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> pure, unadulterated fluff bc i love tsukkiyama so much oh my god??? these boys r killing me???????
> 
> based kind of off of [this](http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/140663569869/person-a-burns-their-tongue-on-hot-chocolate-and)

Kei is barely out of bed before there are arms wrapped around his waist, keeping him there.

“Tsukki, where’re you going?” The words come out slurred from his sleep, barely awake even as he protests his boyfriend leaving. Yamaguchi squints his eyes open blearily, his hold surprisingly strong around Kei’s waist.

“I couldn’t go back to sleep,” Kei answers, turning around on the bed so that he’s facing Yamaguchi. He gently unwraps the arms from around his torso. At Yamaguchi’s gentle protest, he makes up for it by entwining their fingers and bringing a hand up to kiss the freckled knuckles. Yamaguchi had three on his ring finger that Kei loves running his lips over.

“Try again,” he says, but he’s sitting up even as he tells Kei to go back to sleep, blinking his eyes open completely. His hair is a mess, tangled and sticking up even more than usual. Even though Kei doesn’t lie back down, Yamaguchi drops the subject, instead asking, “What’s the time?”

The digital clock blinks red at Kei. “Almost eleven,” he says.

Yamaguchi startles at that. “It’s—it’s really that late?”

“We slept a long time.”

He groans. “I still haven’t finished my essay.”

Kei smiles faintly and lets go of his boyfriend’s hand, standing up from the bed and starting towards the door. Reluctantly, the other boy follows him. If they’re quiet going downstairs, they won’t have to deal with Kei’s parents hounding them on why they’re up so late. Yamaguchi catches onto that too, and thankfully stays silent while they tiptoe through the house.

Once they’re safely in the kitchen, the door slid closed behind them so they won’t wake anyone up, Kei starts rummaging through the cabinet closest to him. Yamaguchi peers around him, curious now that he’s awake. “What are you looking for?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Kei doesn’t miss the way Yamaguchi’s face brightens into a smile. It’s a treat between them—instead of coffee, they always have hot chocolate when one or both need to stay up late to finish something, or if they just feel like ruining their sleep schedule. Yamaguchi had originally come over so he could work on his essay with Kei, as Kei had already finished his, but they’d lain down on Kei’s bed for a few minutes of rest. What was supposed to be a few minutes turned into a few hours; Kei woke up first, to an inky black sky outside his window and a stale taste in his mouth that only impromptu naps can produce.

“Are you having some too?” Yamaguchi asks, his voice still quiet despite the closed door. He’s not very good at whispering, but it’s hushed enough. Kei nods, not bothering to answer verbally, and pulls the box down once he finally fishes it out of the wreck that is their kitchen cabinets.

“Milk,” he says more than asks, and Yamaguchi gets the carton of milk from the fridge while Kei pulls out two packets of hot chocolate powder. On his way over, Yamaguchi grabs two mugs; one yellow, the other blue. It was a gift to the both of them from Yamaguchi’s mother a few years back—matching mugs to go with their matching bags. Kei uses his almost every morning with coffee, not that he likes admitting that.

Once the milk is sufficiently warmed and the powder has been poured and stirred into the mug, Yamaguchi holds his cup up to Kei. He returns it, clinking the sides together quietly in a private joke.

“It’s hot,” Kei warns.

Yamaguchi only smiles, wide and still sleepy, and takes a sip of his drink. He blanches and pulls away not more than half a second later.

“That’s _really_ hot, oh my god.” He put his mug down on the counter, sticking his tongue out.

Kei doesn’t laugh, but he feels his lips turn up in a grin, and he hides it behind his own hot chocolate. “I told you it was.”

“Don’t laugh at me, Tsukki,” his boyfriend whines, but he’s smiling himself. “I think I burnt off all my tastes buds. It really hurt.”

“You poor thing.”

“I know.”

They look at each other for a moment, before Kei pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, sets his mug down next to Yamaguchi’s on the counter, and brings a hand forward to cup the back of his boyfriend’s neck. “Come here.”

Yamaguchi does, and their lips meet in the middle in a soft kiss. Kei slides his hand into dark hair and tugs gently; Yamaguchi tastes like chocolate, and his mouth is warm, warm enough to make Kei feel like he’s burning—but it’s the good kind of burning, making his chest feel heavy in a way that’s exciting and new and fantastic. They two of them have only been dating for a couple of weeks; this kind of thing is still new, the kissing thing, the dating thing, the maybe-being-in-love thing. Kei doesn’t think the novelty of their relationship will ever wear off. His heart still skips a beat when Yamaguchi looks at him for too long; how could he ever get tired of this?

When the shorter boy sighs into the kiss, the burning only increases.

Eventually, they pull away, mostly because Kei remembers that their hot chocolates are waiting for them, and Yamaguchi still has an essay to write by Monday. The waiting beverages don’t stop them from pressing their foreheads together though. Yamaguchi’s fingers settle on Kei’s hipbones, like they’re meant to being there. At the very least, they’re used to it. His favorite place to touch when they kiss is Kei’s hips, and he’s gotten very familiar with it in the past few weeks.

Yamaguchi smiles, and his face looks red beneath his freckles. He doesn’t blush often, so Kei can’t get enough of it when he does. “Did you just try to kiss it better?”

Kei does _not blush_ , for the record. He pushes his glasses up again. “No.”

His boyfriend laughs, soft and clear and beautiful, and Kei thinks again, more sure this time: he could never get tired of this.


End file.
